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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24130786">Consider it a Tithe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic'>madrastic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>From the Nowhere Archives [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aphrodisiacs, Bathing/Washing, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blood Drinking, Breeding, Claiming Bites, Come Inflation, Come as Lube, Come as Muscle Relaxant, Confessions, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fae &amp; Fairies, Fantasy, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kinda?, Kissing, Magic, Massage, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Human Genitalia, Overstimulation, Oviposition, Past Torture, Possessive Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, Scars, Science Fiction &amp; Fantasy, Sharing a Bed, Stomach Bulge, Teratophilia, Trauma, Trauma Bonding, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Weird Biology, anyway yeah eggs, but talia's always a nudist, ok i get thats a weird tag but that's what happens sorry, yeehaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:48:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24130786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard sometimes, missing a home that you'll never see again. In the night, those are the thoughts that are the loudest. Laying in a room that, despite everything, is slowly becoming her own, next to the man she chose to spend her life with, its good that he knows just the right way to make those thoughts shut up.</p><p>[can be read as a standalone]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Non-Human Character/Original Non-Human Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>From the Nowhere Archives [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>did i write smut of 2 incredibly minor characters in book 2? 100%<br/>comments and kudos are appreciated!</p><p>Edit: silly me forgot to mark the 2nd half, oopsies</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Their room was dark, not that it bothered her. The dark was like home, like a second skin. It was the first thing she had seen waking up and the last thing in her vision before going to sleep for so many decades. It was a unique feeling to think of it as something to be cherished now, with the endless cycle of day and night she’d had to adjust to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon could hurt to look at sometimes, but the sun hurt more. It burned at her skin like it had a vengeance and learning to be out during the day had taken considerable effort. Even still, Talia preferred to stay inside, pretend the walls around her were the hewn stone of the Caverns, that the sounds still echoed down exposed rock wall, landing outside Cyrus and her room. She very much liked staying in their room, away from the noise and clamor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ha, when had Talia started to think of it as ‘their’ room. It was Cyrus’s. It was always going to be Cyrus’s. It looked like it belonged to him, what with its pale purple wallpaper and bookshelf stuffed to the brim with trinkets and books, necklaces and jewelry dangling off of a little brass tree. Those were hers, the necklaces. Cyrus didn’t wear much of anything to adorn himself these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room smelled like him too, like he had distilled the way his soap mixed with his hair and rubbed it into the violet drapes, the green sheets of his bed, the blue carpets. He had gone and glued little glowing stones to the roof, pretending they were the Solaqen stars in the summer, remaking unfamiliar constellations. Talia really couldn’t understand why he wanted the walls to be such a light color or only drew the curtains at night, or found comfort in rocks forming shapes in the ceiling, but to each their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat up, letting the blanket fall down around her waist. It was a heavy blue thing, almost like a sapphire. Ha. He probably thought he was being slick, making an inside joke with himself. It would work if Cyrus didn’t do it every time he was reliably aware Talia was coming over. His usual blanket was grey, but he liked it when she looked like she at least partially belonged. It was rather nice of him to match the fabric to her skin, even if it didn’t have the little reflective flecks of her skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside her, Cyrus glanced at the sudden movement, wings quivering with repressed anxiety. Iridescent violet eyes that seemed to shift shades with every light change looked at her, questioning. With an unhealthy amount of fondness, Talia pushed his hair out of his eyes, watching the long verdant strands shift along the pale spring green of his chest. He looked nice when he was naked, laying on his side for her to appreciate, when he wasn’t trying to vie for a world that didn’t exist anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia’s eyes wandered to the desk in the corner, covered with papers and books and tokens from the both of them. It looked like a binder had thrown up on it. The sound of someone propping himself up on his elbows explained why her hand rose in his hair and the mattress dipped. She wasn’t going to turn around. If she didn’t look, then she didn’t have to pretend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you looking at?” Cyrus was quieter when they were alone, voice gentler, raspier. He wasn’t trying to hide how he sounded underneath a veneer of dignity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing. Say nothing. “The mountain of work we’re putting off.” Why did you say something, Mothers, Talia, now he was going to worry himself sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why can’t we put it off some more?” The way he spoke her mother tongue was absolutely atrocious, marred with the thickest accent Talia had ever heard, but she appreciated the effort he put into it. Not many people would learn and use a language that came from a society their people had been at war with for all of living memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because,” her voice was smooth and sonorous, the pinnacle of poised as she turned, tapping his nose with a finger, “if we put it off for much longer, Heddi’aran can and will have our heads.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you scared of?” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he was talking, big, wide eyes, almost like a child. Cyrus must have seen the way her face adopted a repressed horror against her will, blanching at the concept. “Sorry, I didn’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dragged her legs out of bed silently cursing the loss of the warmth. As her feet touched the soft carpet, a blanket was wrapped over her shoulders, weighed down by arms and a hot form against her back. A kiss was placed to her shoulder, far gentler, covering the bite marks slowly healing there. Talia found her hand tangling itself in hair, urging Cyrus’s head up with the faintest of pushes. He obeyed, if a bit hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, stay.” His breath was hot on the shell of her ear. “Why don’t you roll me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got Talia to shove him back into the bed. Well, more give a somatic instruction that Cyrus followed to its natural conclusion of flopping onto the soft mattress than a shove, but that’s what she was going to call it. Talia stood, wrapping the blanket around herself, much to the complaint of Cyrus, who was busy shifting so that he could slide his wings out from under himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be insatiable.” It wasn’t a scold, more of a tease, than anything</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> insatiable?” She could </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> the shit-eating grin on his face as he spoke, hear the smile in his words. “Where were you four days ago when you wanted to go for round sev—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want kids.” Talia blurted out like she was a child trying to tell their first lie. It was embarrassing, not being able to keep it secret, but it had gone on for long enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence that stretched was intolerable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A deep breath broke it, and Cyrus finally spoke. “That’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t help the laugh that dripped from her lips like blood, relieved and distrustful. “’That’s good’? Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I tell you a secret?” Talia nodded as she met his eyes, finding a deadly serious look in them. “I don’t want kids either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like a breath neither of them had realized they were holding had been let out. Cyrus’s face twitched into a smile, and Talia let herself grin, sharp teeth glinting in the meager light. She got back onto the bed, throwing the blanket over Cyrus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there goes the hopes of our courts.” She chuckled at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There goes the solution to the fertility crisis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flicked her hand through the air dramatically. “Ah, yes. Just fuck with reckless abandon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Don’t be rude, they’re hosting us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m never rude.” The backs of his fingers brushed down her cheek, half lidded eyes expectant. “Now can you pretty, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty</span>
  </em>
  <span> please roll me again? I’ll behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Climbing on top of him, Talia leaned over, getting into Cyrus’s face. “You never behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe if you actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>roll</span>
  </em>
  <span> me properly, I would.” He grinned right back, hands wandering down her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can I disagree with such a polite request.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia bit down hard on his neck, letting it join the other bruises and bite marks that he was sure to be teased about later, tasting sweat-slick skin and blood that was far more delicious than it should have been. From her seat on his pelvis she could feel his dick stirring against her, unwinding its long, slick length to slowly wrap around her thigh, searching for wet heat. They couldn’t have that, now could they.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unhooking her teeth from his throat, Talia looked down at her toy, his cerulean blood mixed with her drool dripping down onto his chest. At the sight of her, he chewed on his lip, pupils blown wide. There was no white to his eyes, just an expanse of black ringed by shimmering blue. No doubt that, in his mouth, his teeth had morphed into iridescent canines and molars, not a single incisor in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your glamor’s slipping.” She teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand fisted itself in her hair, desperate and eager. “Fuck my glamor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyrus flipped the two of them, wings flared up, blocking much of the view of the ceiling. Maybe this is what their ancestors saw, before the Thornling and the courts and the royal family and the cities and houses and clothes. Before the Caverns and the surface went to perpetual war. Maybe this is what it was like before the fertility crisis. Just two people, not caring about what the other looked like or what their society had done, desperately seeking that next burst of pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re thinking again.” Cyrus said plainly, a few drops of blood slowly making their way into the hollow of his clavicle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am indeed.” Talia couldn’t help drawing a finger through the sticky blue liquid, licking it off. Sweet. He always tasted so sweet. She anticipated his next question. “Do you think this was what it was like in the past?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother’s cursed philosopher, ruining a good romp with your history thoughts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She arched an eyebrow up at him and pressed her hand to the carapace in between his legs, ignoring his member in favor of lightly tracing patterns against the sensitive skin, watching Cyrus try to keep his composure. His hips shook as he resisted the urge to grind down onto her hand, nipping at his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a laugh, Talia licked some of the drying blood from her lips. “Want to bend me over and mess up our notes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what are you waiting for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing, apparently. Cyrus scooped her up in his arms (by the Mother’s blessing, Talia always forgot how strong he was) and dragged the two of them over to the desk, swiping everything off with a wave of his hand. Papers fluttered to the ground around them as Talia was set down, a hand in between her shoulder blades pressing her front down into the sturdy wood of the table. They would have to clean that up later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rough hands scraped at her sides as Cyrus pushed into her slit. Talia’s forehead met the cool wood as she was pulled onto her toes by his arms, speared by his ovipositor. He stilled as he bottomed out, breath hot on her shoulder, waiting, every minuscule adjustment sending her rocking on the balls of her feet. With an exhale, Talia nodded, reveling in the stretch, at the way he filled her so impossibly, and Cyrus thankfully started moving. He thrust hard and fast, slamming into her so hard Talia thought she might break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it your time of the month?” Talia gasped as the ridges and motions of his dick pushed against her in just the right way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His pace slowed enough for her to hear his panting. “How could you tell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Horny bastard, I can always tell. You can lay in me, I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, he sped back up, rutting harder into her. Talia let herself enjoy it, enjoy the way he hit that spot inside her that made everything light up. She let her thoughts come to a rest, the constantly spinning gears replaced with feeling good and safe. Cyrus and she hated each other, but not in the way that Idri people hated each other. They hated each other out of love, for love, as love. She was his enemy, and he hers. It was the way it was meant to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before Talia was groaning into the desk, nails scoring light stripes into the farther edge. Cyrus had dug his teeth into the meat of her shoulder at some point and pressed little crescent indents into her sides to the point where she was sure she was going to have bruises in the shape of his fingertips for days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He straightened somewhat, core tensing up as he pressed kisses against the back of her head. They were loud. There was no way around it, they were loud and they didn’t care who heard Talia moaning and the desk thumping and Cyrus screaming her name like it was a prayer. Lost in his own body, Cyrus still grabbed one of her hands, holding it tightly like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her orgasm washed over her like a wave, resting her entire weight onto the wood below her, held up by her hips as Cyrus slotted himself in the deep, tight heat, moaning and shaking. An aborted stutter was Talia’s only warning as hot liquid spilled into her and she felt the first press of an egg against her entrance. Slick with Cyrus and her own fluids, it slipped in, pushed in without much difficulty. The stretch was wonderful, and it sat heavily inside her, a firm weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slick numbed the pain, only heightening the pleasure. That was a nice thing about Cyrus’s anatomy, it accounted for her, deigning to turn her on more as he used her as a glorified cocksleeve. Above her, Cyrus twitched and gasped in ecstasy, propping himself up on his arms, palms digging into the desk as his hair tickled Talia’s back. His cock moved in her shallowly, jostling the eggs being laid in her, sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia’s moans only encouraged him as he pressed shaking kisses to her shoulders and upper back, whispering slurred praises. It wasn’t like Talia was any better, using what little leverage she had to rock back and impale herself, however slightly, on his ovipositor, shifting the eggs deeper. Between her legs, Cyrus’s hand drifted around her nether regions, rubbing faint circles against the head of her slit. That only served to encourage her and, as the last egg slid into Talia, she felt her legs tremble again as her groans turned into broken sounds, reduced only to heavy breathing and her own blood rushing in her ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Cyrus pulled out, Talia felt something drip from her slit to the floor, a mixture of internal lubricant and her own arousal. Panting, she reveled in the feeling of slick and sweat slowly drying on her thighs, unable to do much but lie there, unthinking, blissfully numb. Cyrus let her be, Talia was partial to coming down alone, to returning to her body and mind not in the arms of another. Distantly, she could hear water running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mouth felt dry and tacky, she realized and, right on cue, Cyrus appeared with a drink, water still running in the bathroom. A damp towel was brushed across the sensitive skin of her thighs, cleaning up some of the mess. What had they come to, nemeses tenderly helping each other into the bath after filling them up with eggs and having rough sex. With his quiet urging, though, Talia straightened up. The eggs shifted inside her, triggering a new wave of arousal as the slick continued to take effect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking down, there was a noticeable smooth bump in her stomach. As if in a dream, Talia ran her hand over it, the laugh that fell out of her mouth completely out of her control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pregnant now.” She said, like she didn’t make this joke every month.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyrus still chuckled at that, stumbling on his own legs as the two of them made their way to the bathroom. “I hope I’m the father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess we’ll never know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bathtub had filled up, Talia noted as he turned off the tap. How nice of him, she thought as he lowered her carefully in. The water was so warm, and it smelled nice, like albide blooms from back home. She liked albide blooms, the small white creeping plant only blooming for a month in the fall and spring, lodged in the chinks in the rock in the upper regions of the Great Below. It would have been time for the final harvest of the old year in the Solaq before the winter set in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyrus climbed in after her, scooping water up with a bucket and running it over her skin. “Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s almost time for the winter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed. “I hate to break it to you, but we’re already a few months into that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia clumsily shook her head. “Back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyrus’s face fell into a complicated emotion. It was somewhere between amused and heartbroken. “It’s not our home anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re in the Ruin Court, isn’t your whole opinion that we should burn it down and make something new out of it?” He ran his fingers through her hair, doing his best to untangle the strands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning forward to better accommodate him, Talia’s breath stuttered at the horribly pleasant feeling as an egg rubbed up against her in just the right way. “And you’re in with the Refugees. What happened to making it a home again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have found that time is not as merciful a healer as I once thought.” He sighed, putting her hair into a loose bun. “I heard that Princess Mab has surfaced somewhere on Idran.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good for her for getting out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tal, she was in a soul cage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That cut through Talia’s high like a knife through butter, ice creeping up her back. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His own fingers carded through his hair, trying to ground his spinning thoughts. There was a wetness to his eyes. “She was in a soul cage. For almost fifty years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia ran her fingers along his arm, pulling Cyrus close. His head hit the junction of her neck and shoulder, twisting and burying itself in her as Talia rubbed little circles in his back, mindful of the wings tensed up to the point of sodden quivering. Neither of them were ashamed to say that he cried, shudders and jerks running through Cyrus as Talia did her best to comfort him. Unabashed sobs slowly petered out into sniffles and hiccups as Cyrus, shaking, returned to himself. In a way she hoped was soothing, Talia rocked them, whispering empty condolences and words into his ear until he put a hand on her arm to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling back, Talia wiped the last few tears from his face ignoring how his glamor had completely dropped. He sniffed and tried to smile. “I see I killed the mood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was rather handsome, in Talia’s opinion, lost glamor and all. Dark black stains from powerful magic had inched its way up his limbs, fading at his mid-thigh, his shoulder. It haloed his face from his hairline, parts of his dark green hair shocked white or stained black. He looked like someone had drawn him with charcoal, the powder getting into the cracks and crevices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Talia pressed a kiss to his cheek, right where his skin started to become stained black from magic, old burns running down from his hairline. It was pretty, in a strong kind of way. He had survived that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” He pulled her into his lap, curse-stained hands running up and down her sides. “Then forgive me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia grinned up at him, letting her weight be split between Cyrus’s lap and her shins on the porcelain of the bathtub. “Warm the water back up and I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your wish is my command.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around them, the water heated as Cyrus used his magic, returning to a perfect temperature. Lazily, Talia kissed him like they had all the time in the world, deep and thorough. It was a claiming kiss, a protective kiss. It was a kiss that stated in no uncertain terms that Cyrus was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He pulled her close, trying to chase a high that had faded, his hard stomach pressing into the bulge of hers, making Talia break the kiss with a broken moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyrus bit his lip, doing his best not to burst out laughing as Talia leaned back to give herself room, blushing. “I hate you.” She grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you, too.” His smile was soft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a swipe of her thumb against her tongue, Talia rubbed some of the dried blood off of Cyrus’s collarbone with her thumb. “You’re a mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not the one full of eggs.” He pressed down on her stomach and a shudder ran through Talia as she tried to hold back a gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached back and dumped a bucketful of water over his head, much to his indignant squawking. Hair plastered to his skin and blinking water out of his eyes, he turned the water around them cold, Talia jumping up to a standing position on wobbling legs. The air in the room heated up, keeping the chill from sinking too far into her bones. A calloused hand traced along the back of her thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyrus looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Stay, please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Reluctantly, Talia stepped out of his grip, snatching a fluffy towel from the towel rack. “But only because I don’t want to walk around looking lightly pregnant.” And because of that she always stayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A muffled snort and splashing was how Cyrus elected to hide his laughter. Rolling her eyes, Talia dried off and tried to get a brush through her hair. After some success, she just gave up and pulled it into a bun, wiping off the last of the water off of her skin. She felt Cyrus’s eyes roving over her body, taking their time around her swollen stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a… a… what are they called,” Talia snapped her fingers next to her ear absently, as if that would help her remember, “those new things, automatic paintings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Cyrus a bit to find the word. “Are you talking about photographs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Photographs!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they still need an operator or a painter—photographer I mean? Or is it photographist?” Cyrus laughed, spreading out in the bath and exhaling, the water steaming up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia shook her head. “How would I know? I’ve been far too busy getting the Ruin Court stable and functioning for this technological nonsense. I’m on the council, you know, one of the Queens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed his hair out of his face, heat bringing a ruddy blush to his cheeks. “I’m aware, congratulations, again. Forgive me if this is above my station,” he teased. Talia could see it in his easy smile, “but I think it might be nice if you come over here and kiss me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you, now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia walked to his side, tiles arcanely warm beneath the soles of her feet. Cyrus’s hand trailed up the side of her leg, enjoying the feeling of soft muscle and fat under his calloused fingers. She dropped the towel over his arm and leaned over, nipping at the tip of his long, curving ear before pulling away as he tried to chase her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, ah, ah. What do we say?” Her fingers scratched at the nape of his neck, and Cyrus tipped his head backwards, eyes screwed shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a lazy grin, he rumbled out what she wanted to hear. “May I please have the honor of thanking you for allowing me to complete my cycle with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can thank me by finishing up and joining me in bed.” Pressing a chaste kiss to Cyrus’s forehead, Talia drew back. “Before I get too drowsy or too bored, what with these presents inside me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, my Queenling.” He cupped his hand against the swell of her belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia traced Cyrus’s jaw with a finger. “I’m not your Queenling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True.” He hummed. “You’re my Lightbringer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re getting soft.” There was too much fondness in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A price I am more than willing to pay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lacing her fingers through the hand he had placed on her stomach, she lifted her hand to press a kiss against it. “Then pay you will. Consider it a tithe.” A tithe. How fitting.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>liked the story? <a href="https://ko-fi.com/madlysacrosanct">leave a tip!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>egg time</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments and kudos are greatly appreciated~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Now, Talia wasn’t going to say that Cyrus’s bed was uncomfortable. Of course it wasn’t—it was clean and neat, full of enough pillows and blankets to leave royalty content. By all objective measurements, it was incredibly comfortable. No, it was just… lonely, really. It was big enough that Talia yearned for something to fill the space around her. Maybe that was why Cyrus had all the pillows he had taken to hoarding, to help him forget how alone he was when Talia left for the fall and spring, migrating like a maridai.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was probably her first winter on the mainland since the Ruin Court had finished with the preliminary construction of their city, it had to be. She hadn’t seen snow in so long. Talia had been home for the rest of the time, doing everything she could to help out with construction plans and moving people in. Building a floating city from scratch took up time, especially when people were still on alert for the first hints of an attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifting, Talia groaned at the sensation of the eggs laying heavy in her stomach, biting her lip at the pleasure that bubbled up. Spreading her legs, she reached a hand down to cup at herself, rubbing slowly, cognizant of the quiet splashing of the bathroom. Hm, she could wait a bit, probably. It would be a present to taunt Cyrus, to make a mess of his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room already smelled like her, much to Talia’s delight. Try as he might, Cyrus wouldn’t be getting Talia’s scent off of him, and the bite on his neck would be enough of a mark to let other Terries know to stay away. It was stupid how surface fae didn’t have something so simple and decisive to let people know who was and wasn’t taken. No, they just went around, flirting, never knowing if the person they were speaking with was claimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, the door opened wider and Cyrus crossed into the room, not bothering with his glamor. When they had gotten so familiar with each other, Talia couldn’t place. As he toweled out his hair, Talia had the urge to look away. This was such an intimate thing, to see someone without their glamor, like all of the pomp and circumstance had been stripped aside and left at the door, vulnerable and nude. It was indecent, really, but who was she to care. The two of them had seen each other in all sorts of disarray, what was a little friendly vulnerability between bonded?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Talia was going to pass up the chance to take him in, though. She was familiar, not an idiot. Scars crisscrossed lean muscle, pale green skin marked with black burns, magical and unhealable, as dark as the day they had been seared into his skin. It didn’t seem to bother Cyrus much, though the lingering pain that he whispered about in the wee hours made Talia angry enough to kill. As if saying it quietly would make it less permanent. There was a notch in one wing, the veins around it stained black. In all honesty, Talia was just relieved that it still worked. Being grounded would be a fate like nothing else, from what others had said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sensing her gaze, Cyrus smirked, his opalescent teeth appearing between darker green lips. “You aren’t going to make me apologize for living here again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia had to laugh at that. “I’m surprised you still remember that.” That argument had to have been years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, how could I forget? It isn’t like many understand our little arrangement, after all.” He crossed over to the bed, kneeling on it. His soaked wings made little damp spots on the covers and Talia batted them away with a foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch the bed—” Obliging the letter of her words, Cyrus lifted his wings, playfully shaking them out on her. “You are a cruel and evil person—did you know that? Are you aware of how much of a bastard you are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of a response, he just moved forward, humming idly. Cyrus’s lips found Talia’s easily, warm hands straying down her body. Clever fingers pinched and teased at her nipples until Talia was making those little sounds Cyrus happened to like so much, pain and pleasure commingling. His hands wandered down, taking over from hers and pressing little circles into her clit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Cyrus moved back, Talia let out a chuckle. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and help me clean up your little mess, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> mess?” He gasped in indignation, bringing his hands up to rub at Talia’s swollen belly. “Why I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever he had chosen to say after that was lost to Talia’s moan as everything shifted, so torturously good. Okay, okay. She needed to get a hold of herself. There were five eggs in her, and five eggs were going to come out one way or another. Even now, she could feel one shifting in her, coming ever so close to starting to slip out. By the Mothers, why Cyrus had elected to produce such large eggs this time was a mystery. This was going to be far harder, now that the effects of their union were wearing off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cyrus.” The name was a struggle as her fingers slipped inside her, the walls of her channel tight and wet with the remnants of her own arousal and Cyrus’s cum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those damnable hands just manipulated her stomach more, pressing down and jostling. “Yes, Talia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you. Make smaller eggs next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ask nicely, I wouldn’t be opposed.” His eyes still softened. “Why don’t I help you out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a hasty nod, Talia allowed herself to be rolled onto her front, hips slightly in the air and cum dribbling out between her legs as more pressure was put onto her stomach. Gentle hands brought her arms in front of her. Stifling her groans against the pillow, her legs twitched as Cyrus dipped his fingers into her cunt, thrusting nice and slow, getting himself a thorough coating of slick fluids. The tips of those fingers ghosted over her ass, the muscle relaxant in his cum having already loosened it partially.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two digits slowly slid in, lubed up with their combined slick. The pressure managed to dislodge an egg, shifting it further down Talia’s vagina. Gasping helplessly, she let Cyrus help, relaxing her muscles from the inside. The stretch as it crowned was enough to leave Talia whining for more stimulation, her hand stroking her clit as the egg landed on the bed with a quiet thump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A third finger was added, and the second egg began to leave her. Whispering quiet praises in her ear, Talia could feel Cyrus getting hard against her leg as he pressed kisses to the swell of her ass, the small of her back, the meat of her thighs. Talia only redoubled her efforts, thrusting her own fingers into her cunt to help the second egg out, even larger than the first as it stretched her wider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a broken off cry, her muscles tensed up, popping the egg out and loosening another as pleasure overtook her, legs trembling as Cyrus held her up. How she was going to do this, she didn’t know. It already felt like she was being split apart with each pass. This was far larger than anything Cyrus had previously produced and, coupled with her small form, there was simply no way she could do this. Belatedly, Talia realized there were tears running down her cheeks and she was pleading nonsensically, begging for it to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Cyrus’s words were hard to focus on, like the moon on a cloudy night. “You’re doing such a good job, Talia, just a few more to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, and Cyrus’s free hand stroked her back. The sensation of a tongue on her skin was quickly replaced with tingling as Cyrus’s arousal took effect. It was a blessing and a curse, his body. His free hand rubbed little circles into her lower back, helping the tension there melt away. Inside her, Talia had the same treatment, the fingers urging the next egg down and helping to push it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even still, Talia cried out in pain as it reached her entrance. “I can’t do this, I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too big, it was going to tear her in half. How unfair that it had to feel so good as it did, seeming to trigger every nerve in her body. Cyrus kept up his ministrations, doing whatever he could to alleviate the pain somewhat. His hand left her back, though Talia hardly felt it. She widened her legs more, trying desperately to alleviate some of the pressure on her pelvis as the fourth egg began to exit. Her eyes rolled back into her head, body tensing up and shuddering in an orgasm that was more overstimulation than anything, the pleasure only slightly outbalanced by pain. As the egg fell onto the bed, she dimly realized that Cyrus had been clearing them away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last one, Tal, you’re doing so good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those lips were back, pressing against her shoulders as Cyrus’s cock lined up with her entrance, thrusting only a couple of times before he was spilling in her, renewing the bliss and euphoria. Talia could feel her hole loosen even more as Cyrus’s fingers thrust it deeper into her, preparing her for the last egg. It was intoxicating, feeling his spend drip down her thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Talia could do was moan into the pillow as her body overtook her, mind blanking out as she was split in two. It wasn’t enough. It was too much. Distantly, Talia realized her hand had fallen limp, the fingers tingling and numb. She panted as she tried to rock back onto Cyrus’s fingers, as a heavy weight dropped into her hips. Yes. Almost done. And then Talia could… Talia could sleep. Or maybe get some cider or something. It didn’t matter right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the last egg slid out of her, Talia let herself collapse, breathing hard and impossibly horny. In a flash, Cyrus was on her, checking for injuries and murmuring how good a job she had done. That didn’t matter right now. When his fingers brushed across her gaping cunt, worried about tears, Talia couldn’t help but moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is that what you’d like?” However much Cyrus wanted to sound like he was teasing, Talia could still hear the worry in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Talia could do was groan and shake her head. “Tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gentle hands rubbed her back. “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could register Cyrus ever leaving, there was a damp washcloth between her legs, rubbing at painfully sensitive areas. Whimpering, Talia did her best to struggle away, her efforts stymied by a steady hand on her hip. Soon enough, it was over and Cyrus wriggled his way under her, letting Talia rest her head on his chest. Carefully he pushed her hair out of her face, pressing chaste kisses to her forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was nice, the cuddles. Talia was a fan of cuddles. A quiet part of her mind reminded her why, reminded her about years spent in solitude, but now wasn’t the time to think of that. She was warm and Cyrus was here, despite all odds. The two of them were alive and together, and that was everything that mattered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He was whispering, holding her tight. “I didn’t think they would be that big, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Summoning the energy, Talia pinched his side, making him flinch and yelp, jostling her. “Stop being hard on yourself.” She was too tired for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humming affection into her hairline, Cyrus massaged little circles into her shoulders and upper back, rocking them slowly as Talia slowly caught her breath, a dull ache between her legs. That was going to hurt like the end of all things tomorrow, and she was going to whine at Cyrus until he went out and got her a healing salve. To go without was not an option. What he was going to do with the eggs, Talia didn’t know. Presumably, what he did every month, though what it was, he had never shared with her. That was alright, he never asked about her own biological quirks. It was only polite to extend the same kindness to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cyrus.” She mumbled into the soft skin of his chest as he drew the blanket up around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The response was immediate, the weight of his attention focused on Talia. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to the infirmary tomorrow for me. No negotiating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His laugh made the world bounce up and down and up again, rumbling against her cheek. “Just this once, I won’t. You have my word that I will pick up a cream at the infirmary for you tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And some cupcakes.” No doubt Cyrus could feel her exhausted smile against his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, now you’re pushing it. I simply won’t know if I shall have enough grace and peace in my heart for that. I will take the next few hours to consider it thoroughly for any flaws in your logic.” There was mirth in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asshole.” Reaching up, Talia pushed Cyrus’s face to the side. “Find someone else to lay in next time. I want vanilla.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chuckling, Cyrus batted her hand away. “Vanilla it is. I hate you.” The fondness in his voice was going to make Talia gag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a squeeze, Cyrus let her be, acting as a hot water bottle and pillow as Talia’s breathing started to slow, her eyes drifting shut. Everything could come and go, but at least Cyrus was still with her. No matter what happened, she wasn’t leaving his side. People could gossip and laugh and joke about it all, but they would have to take Cyrus from her cold, dead hands. Cold, dead, sleepy hands.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks for reading! if you've got any suggestions, feel free to leave them in the comments, it's quarantine and im bored anyway, why not write some more erotica to torment my fiance</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have a tumblr! shoot me a message! i also do commisions!<br/>@timeslive-inhouse, unlike talia, i dont bite</p></blockquote></div></div>
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